Bone of my bones, flesh of my flesh
by Lady Henrietta
Summary: When Albus is absent from his Transfiguration class, can Minerva help him before it's too late? Complete.
1. The matter at hand

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter people, places, and things, (all Harry Potter nouns) belong to J. K. Rowlings.

Bone of my bones, flesh of my flesh

Chapter 1: The matter at hand.

Minerva spent almost fifteen minutes perusing her closet for the perfect blouse. She finally grabbed a burgundy V-neck with three-quarter length sleeves. Normally she would have taken a total of thirty seconds to grab her uniform, but today the students were taking a trip to Hogsmeade.

As she put her lipstick on, she glanced down at tan skirt. Her raven-black hair had been set in a French roll. She sighed and asked herself, "What am I doing? Why am I so dressed up for this trip? What does it matter if I wear gray school clothes?"

But it did matter. The problem was not necessarily that she was trying to look nice for anyone, but that she wanted to present herself as a respectable lady instead of a teenager. She had signed decided to go on the trip expecting to find more books at Flourish and Blotts Bookstore. What she did not expect was finding Professor Dumbledore there.

Professor Albus Dumbledore had to be in his seventies, she figured, with white streaks in his auburn hair, a few wrinkles, brilliant blue eyes, and an engaging smile. He taught her Transfiguration class in a way that drew her into the material and made the subject fun. She always did all the reading before his class and spoke regularly.

She had also come to his office hours to ask questions and talk about Transfiguration and becoming an animagus. He seemed not to mind talking to her, so she came back again and discovered that he had remembered a comment she had made on her first visit. She found him to be very intelligent and 'cut of the same cloth.' Recently he had needed to change his hours and the change conflicted with another class of hers. She regretted not being able to talk with him as much.

Albus looked out at the students he would be chaperoning at Hogsmeade to see if she had come that day. She was his brightest student, and delightful company. When she was able to see him at his office hours, she volunteered to grade papers for him and had always done a splendid job. In that past school year before he left to fight Grindewald, he had helped her become an animagus. He sighed as he watched her walk to the bookstore with a few of her friends. _She'll be in there all day_, he thought to himself with a grin.

He walked down to the Leaky Cauldron with a few students to order a glass of gilly water. While he was waiting, the pain in his side began again and he sighed heavily, steadying himself on one of the tables. He was relieved that no one had noticed. _It wasn't supposed to be this bad yet. I should make an appointment to see the healers again soon_, he thought to himself.

Minerva was surprised when on Tuesday the Transfiguration class had a substitute. Though the class moved smoothly and the students respected the substitute, Minerva could not keep her mind off of Professor Dumbledore. _He never misses class. Where could he be? Is something drastically wrong? Is he hurt? I wish I knew_, she worried as she went to her next class.

She did not see him again until Thursday. Fortunately for her, the class she had after Transfiguration was Herbology and they were taking a quiz that day. Minerva realized that if she finished quickly, she could still catch him in his office hours. He looked surprised to see her as she knocked and let herself in.

Noticing the pensive expression in her emerald-green eyes, he spoke. "Is there something I can help you with, Miss McGonagall?"


	2. The problem

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter people, places, and things, (all Harry Potter nouns) belong to J. K. Rowlings.

Chapter 2: The problem.

"Professor, I'm so sorry to have barged in like this but… were you ill on Tuesday?" Minerva questioned politely.

Albus paused awkwardly and sighed. "It's a bit worse than 'ill.' I had an appointment to see a healer… I suppose you could call it being ill," he tried to explain.

"I'm sorry, Professor Dumbledore, but I don't quite understand what you are trying to say," she commented. She did not intend to be rude, merely to see if she could help him in some way.

She did not like the dim expression she saw in his eyes. Then she realized that his blue eyes had not twinkled since he had left to fight Grindewald last year. "Miss McGonagall, war brings out not only the worst in people, but the worst weapons, both in muggle destructiveness and in wizards' magic. Let me just say that my battle with Grindewald left more of a mark on me than I had planned on."

"Is there anything I can do?" Minerva asked.

He shook his head. "No, and I would appreciate it if you wouldn't repeat what I have told you."

"I understand. I shall see you in class tomorrow then," she remarked as she began to leave.

"Good day, Miss McGonagall," he told her as she reached the door. What he did not realize was that her keen hearing had picked up what he had whispered to himself almost under his breath. "I wish things did not have to end like this."

Minerva quickened her pace as she headed down the corridor until she had broken into a dead run, not stopping until she had passed through the Gryffindor Common Room. When she reached her room, she was glad no one else had seen her and collapsed on her bed. She began sobbing, but the reason was slightly muddy.

_This is so wrong, what has happened. There must be a way to help him. He can't be dying! It is so utterly unfair! He could have so many good years left, and so many more students could benefit from his teaching. Or he could choose to retire and travel. This is so unfair to him! Why is it bothering me so much?_ She got up from the bed and stared at her red-eyed reflection in the mirror.

_He is only my professor, isn't he? My professor who I can tell anything to, who listens to me without complaining, who plays chess with me, who gives me superb advice… Oh Merlin! He's more than a professor to me. What is the truth about how I really feel about him? Oh Merlin, I don't know_, she thought as she began crying again.

The idea came to her in the wee hours of that Friday morning. It was a simple idea that she berated herself for not having devised sooner. _There might be a way to help him if I can see his medical files_, she reasoned. Sneaking into the infirmary and accessing the file cabinet was easier than she expected, probably because it was only five o'clock in the morning. She quickly found his file and thumbed through it for the most current diagnosis. Gasping when she read the problem, she studied it closely to find any answers.

From what she understood, he had been hit by a certain draining curse that affected his blood and his bones. The conclusion she formulated was that he needed a bone marrow transplant. She found her hypothesis to be correct a few lines later. The problem was that no suitable donor could be found. Then something caught her eye, his blood type was the same as her own. _This is probably crazy, but I might as well check this_, she reasoned, setting his file on top of the cabinet and looking for her own.

Comparing the two files, she realized what the only possible solution was: she might be a match for him. She knew that she would have to exaggerate her age in order for them to take her. She had opened the file cabinet to put the files back when she head someone else yell, "Minerva!"


	3. The solution

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter people, places, and things, (all Harry Potter nouns) belong to J. K. Rowlings.

Chapter 3: The solution.

The young woman wheeled around to find a stocky blonde-haired girl standing behind her. "Poppy, I can explain-"

Cutting her off, Poppy tried to sneak a peak at whose files they were and gasped. "Minerva, I can't tell you how absolutely illegal this is. You were looking at a professor's private medical file. What on earth do you intend to do?"

"Poppy, I _had_ to," she began firmly.

"But why?" the medwitch in training questioned, trying to understand why her friend who usually adhered so strictly to the rules would blatantly break so many.

"He's dying," Minerva said softly. "I was looking at his file to learn exactly what was wrong with him. He needs a bone marrow donor."

She watched as comprehension dawned on Poppy's face when she noticed Minerva's file. "It doesn't have to be you," she managed.

"There's a chance that I could be a match from what I've looked at. I take responsibility for the whole thing. It would be best if you left now and pretended that you don't know anything," Minerva advised.

"Oh Min, this is a bad idea, and a dangerous one. I can't let you do this," she exclaimed.

"If they haven't found him a donor by now, then they are not going to find one in time. If I am a match, then he has a chance," Minerva explained.

"Why can't magic heal him?" Poppy inquired.

Minerva paused before answering. "I think for what this particular problem is, both a magical element and a physical element, the bone marrow, are required."

Poppy put a hand on Minerva's shoulder. "I really don't like what you are planning, but I cannot seem to talk you out of it, so I'll leave. I only came here this morning to check on a few patients from the last Quidditch game."

"Will you keep quiet about this?" Minerva pleaded in a whisper.

"I can only say I'll try, but if something goes wrong, I'll have to say something," Poppy warned.

Minerva smiled. "You're a good friend, Poppy."

"I know," she said as she left.

Minerva decided to visit St. Mungo's after school. She had changed her hair colour to a fiery red and had altered her physical characteristics temporarily, including changing her eye colour from green to brown. A Slytherin friend of hers had taught her how to create a fake ID card and other personal information.

She sat in the waiting room after taking a few tests, anxious about what the healers might tell her. I have to be a match. If I'm not, I need a backup plan. But I'm not wholly certain how much time he has left. This must work, she thought to herself.

When the healer walked into the waiting room, Minerva was staring intently at her hands, not noticing what transpired around her. "Is there a Ms. Eve Terra here?"

Minerva's head jerked up at hearing her invented name. "I'm here."

The healer approached her. "Come with me. You're a match."

After they had extracted the bone marrow from her, she was instructed to rest over the weekend. She returned to the school and restored her original appearance, intending to study as always and follow the healers' instructions.

Albus had been astounded when he received a call from St. Mungo's telling him that a match had been found. He had not been expecting them to find anyone. When he had asked the healers for a physical description of the donor, what they told him did not match anyone he knew. He was out of school for a few days after the procedure had been completed and when he returned he tried to peace together how they had suddenly come up with a donor.

He thought back to his meeting with Minerva. _She may have had something to do with it, but how would she happen to find the right person so quickly? Unless… unless she… would she do that? But why would… I must know for certain_, he realized, walking briskly toward the infirmary. Finding the file cabinet and no one in the immediate vicinity, he began to browse through the files. When he found his own and Minerva's, he compared the information. _Minerva, what have you done?_ He froze when he heard someone enter and walk toward him.

"Who's over there this time? Honestly, I'm tired of finding… Professor Dumbledore? What are _you _doing here?" Poppy questioned.

He set the files down and sighed. "I was attempting to answer a question. I assume that by your reaction, I am not the first one to be looking through files?"

"I think it's best if I don't say anything right now," the young woman stated hesitantly.

He shook his head and put the files back into the cabinet. "I think it would be better if you did. What was Minerva doing here looking through the files?"

Poppy had not meant to, but she told him everything. His brow furrowed with worry as she finished. "Am I in trouble?" she asked.

"Not this time, but I suggest that you not let this happen again," he told her.

"Minerva's in trouble, isn't she?" Poppy inquired.

He sighed and headed toward the door. "In a manner of speaking."

(my thanks to Lady Jolly, Quill of Minerva, TartanLioness, and Aurinko for reviewing :D)


	4. Reactions

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter people, places, and things, (all Harry Potter nouns) belong to J. K. Rowlings.

Chapter 4: Reactions.

Minerva had a suspicion about why Professor Dumbledore had called her to his office the next day. She knocked and waited for him to let her in this time. When he did so she quietly took a seat and stared at his desk. Because she was not looking at him, she did not notice him studying her. _Supposedly she's seventeen, but she has always acted older. Perhaps she is impulsive, but she will always be a Gryffindor_. "Miss McGonagall, do you know why you're here?" he began.

She took a deep breath before finally looking up at him. "I believe so, Professor."

"Did you in fact enter the infirmary with out permission and access both my medical files and your own?" he questioned.

Unable to tell whether he was actually angry with her or not, she replied, "Yes."

"Did you also change your appearance and falsify your identity in order to donate bone marrow?"

It nearly broke her heart that he could be upset with her for trying to help him. "Yes," she said in a voice barely above a whisper.

He walked over to her and kneeled to be on her level. "Why, Minerva? Why would you do something so dangerous to yourself?"

Her breath caught in her throat as she noticed that he used her first name. "Someone needed to," she answered.

He shook his head at her reply. "But why?"

"They were never going to find you a donor in any reasonable time and time was something you were running out of. I _had_ to do something and I was not about to let you die because they couldn't find a donor!" she declared.

"What if your idea had not worked?" he challenged.

Her green eyes sparked with determination and pride as he watched her. _Those eyes, Merlin, her eyes are beautiful_, he thought for a second. "I would have come up with another plan. As long as there is something you can do, you don't let your friends die. I'd have done the same for Poppy or any of my friends. You, Professor, have become my friend," she paused and he noticed tears in her eyes. "And I didn't want to imagine my life without you because I love you," she added in a voice barely above a whisper.

Comprehension flashed across her face as she covered her mouth with both hands. Oh Merlin, what she had just said! _The tears I can't control anymore, but if I refuse to answer anymore questions, perhaps he'll forget that last part_, she reasoned. When she tried to look away again, he gently placed his hand under her chin to bring her gaze back to his. She slowly dropper her hands and looked directly into his blue eyes.

He had never expected an answer like that. It was the simplest one he had ever heard. The smile he gave her reached his eyes. Suddenly she smiled back. Finally he broke the silence. "Minerva, I understand now. You are so unselfish and bright. I have something to tell you. I thought that you would consider me a twisted old man for it before today. Minerva, I love you too."

"Professor, the twinkle is back in your eyes," she pointed out quietly.

"Call me 'Albus,'" he told her.

He had not removed his hand from her chin. They slowly moved closer to each other and closed their eyes, neither one understanding what was happening. When their lips gently touched, everything began to make sense. His other hand moved to her back and she rested her hands on his shoulders. When they broke away, both blushed lightly in surprise.

"How do we make this work, Pro-Albus?" she asked.

He brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "We keep things as quiet as possible for a while."

She nodded. "I suppose that means I shouldn't tell Poppy?"

"I'm afraid it's for the best. I've no doubt that she is outside waiting for you. Perhaps you can tell her later," he stated. They kissed lightly before Minerva left.

Poppy paced back and forth in front of the door to Professor Dumbledore's office. _What's taking her so long? Is everything alright? Is she going to be expelled? I hope she comes out soon_, she worried. She breathed a sigh of relief when Minerva emerged.

"Min, what happened? How much trouble are you in? What took you so long?" Poppy questioned. Minerva seemed not to see her and walked as if in a daze with a beaming smile on her face. Poppy abruptly stepped in front of Minerva and grabbed her by the by the shoulders. "Royal Air Force to Minerva, are you planning to land sometime soon?"

Minerva laughed. "Everything is fine. We came to an understanding and I don't have detention."

Poppy smirked and crossed her arms. "You're not telling me the whole story, that much is plain to see. One of these days you're going to have to tell me, but I'll let it go this time."

Minerva hugged her friend. "I promise I'll explain eventually."

After she graduated from Hogwarts, Minerva spent four years at a university and returned to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. She finally told Poppy what had transpired at the meeting when she called her friend and asked if she would be a bridesmaid at the wedding. Two years later, Albus Dumbledore became Headmaster and Minerva Dumbledore not only became the Transfiguration professor, but also Deputy Headmistress. Due to the uncanny knack they both had for acquiring enemies, their marriage had to remain a secret, therefore Minerva had to teach using her maiden name.

Minerva flipped through a photo album that had been a gift from Poppy on her and Albus' fiftieth wedding anniversary. "Albus, look at this one. I didn't even realize that anyone with a camera was watching," she remarked, pointing to a staff Christmas party in which she and Albus had been caught on film kissing under the mistletoe.

Albus smiled and kissed his wife on the cheek. "Someone managed to catch the family picnic too. Apparently the entire staff has been watching us for years," he remarked, showing her the picture of them and their two children, Kyle and Maria, sitting on a blanket by the lake.

"One of these days I would like to tell the school the truth. You wouldn't believe whom they have speculated I might have been seeing! That detestable Guilderoy Lockhart was a favourite rumor of theirs," she commented.

He chuckled. "All in good time, my dear, I promise. And I always keep my promises," he paused and pulled out his wand to make their wedding bands visible. Then he wrapped his arms around her waist. "For better or for worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, I always keep my promises."

"I know, as do I," she whispered before kissing him soundly.

………………………….. Fin …………………………..

(I enjoyed writing this story and I hope all of you have enjoyed reading it; my thanks to TartanLioness, Morgana-Alex, Quill of Minerva, esb, and Lady Jolly for reviewing :D)


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